


The Babysitter

by bjfic_archivist



Category: Queer as Folk (US)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Canon, Minor Character Death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-07-01
Updated: 2006-07-03
Packaged: 2018-12-26 22:43:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,249
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12068466
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bjfic_archivist/pseuds/bjfic_archivist
Summary: AU - Six months ago, on the night Gus was born, Mel and Lindz were in a car accident on the way to the hospital and were killed, but Gus survived. Now single-father Brian is forced to take care of him, but between work and Babylon he doesn't have enough time to do so---enter babysitter Justin, who never met Brian that night, and is struggling to survive because he was kicked out by his father because Craig found out he was gay when he was coming home from Liberty avenue that night (still a virgin).





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Note from IrishCaelan, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [The Brian/Justin Fanfiction Archive](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Brian_Justin_Fanfiction_Archive). To preserve the archive, I began importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in September 2017. I posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [The Brian/Justin Fanfiction Archive collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/bjfic/profile).

  
Author's notes: yeah...so i'm trying to take an awful het-porn plot and turn in into something redeemable.... no sex in this chapter...just setting the stage...pls don't hurt me!  


* * *

Justin

  

Six months ago, he had everything he could have ever wanted.  He'd had a loving home, a wonderful family, the best possible friend he could ever have (even if she was a straight girl) and a bright future.  

Six months ago, it was all snatched from his grasp and he was left out in the cold.

Six months ago, his father found out he was gay, and Justin's world had tilted on an angle and had slowed to a crawl.

 

Within twenty minutes of Craig Taylor discovering that his only son was a fag, Justin was out on the streets with nothing but the clothes on his back, and the cash in his wallet.  It had taken a week of sleeping on Daphne's sofa before he realized that his father would never let him come home.  The day he realized that was the same day that Craig had called Daphne's father and Justin had been kicked out of his friend's house.

 

He hadn't seen Daphne since.  He'd never thought he could miss anyone this much.

 

Even though he'd virtually cleaned out his savings account when his father had kicked him out, the money he'd saved up hadn't gotten him very far.  He'd been so proud of himself when he'd made that money.  He'd worked all summer at his father's company and had managed to save up just over two thousand dollars.  He and Daphne had planned to go to Europe after they finished at St. James.  

 

That was never going to happen now.  Justin hadn't been back to school since his father had kicked him out.  And now his money, like everything else in his life would soon be gone.

 

He should have known that the money wouldn't go far, but when he'd taken it out of the bank he'd had a feeling that he might just make it, that everything might just turn out okay.  

 

That was before he realized he could never go home, and he was forced to accept the shittiest apartment he'd ever set eyes upon was going to be his home from now on.  He hated the goddamn place.  It was 400-square feet of bachelor-squalor.  The toilet only flushed half the time, the shower was always too cold, and there wasn't even a real stove.  He loathed the man who created the hot plate.

 

The only saving grace was that the previous tenant had left behind the ugliest pull-out sofa that he'd ever seen, and that his landlord was too lazy to get it carted out of the place.  As he was losing $400 a month on rent in his own personal hell, Justin was just grateful that he had a place to sleep.

 

His saving had only lasted him three months between rent and food and the necessary things like soap and a underwear.  Justin took jobs as he could find them, but none lasted longer than a week at a time, as no one seemed willing to keep him on for any longer than that.  Justin was starting to think that his father had begun calling in favours and was systematically trying to run him out of Pittsburgh.  So Justin watched and worked and slept and ate whenever he could as he watched his life dwindle and his world slow down to a crawl. 

 

Now Justin feared that every breath he took would make the world stop spinning completely.

 

Then, only a few hours ago he had gotten an offer that he couldn't refuse, and now he was standing in the most beautiful apartment he had ever seen, watching a little baby boy named Gus gurgle up at him from his crib.

 

Getting this gig had been a complete stroke of luck.  After dressing himself up in his old school uniform (that had luckily been at Daphne’s when his father had kicked him out) with the insignia torn off, he’d marched down to yet another business in attempts to get a job.  Any job.  When he’d arrived at Ryder agency, he’d been explaining to the young woman at the front desk that no, he did not have a resume he could leave (as he could barely afford to feed himself, let alone get anything typed up and printed out en masse—but he didn’t mention that part to her), but that he was willing to do ANY job that they had for him.  Anything.  

 

It was during his ineffective pitch to her that he heard a man raging from somewhere in the building, and moments later, a petite blonde woman hurried out, only to be interrupted in her flight by front-desk-girl.  The blonde had taken one look at him in his school uniform, and smiled.

 

“How old are you kid?” 

 

Justin just stared at her, defeated, knowing that no one would really want to hire a seventeen-year-old kid, especially one that looked even younger than he was.  So he lied. 

 

“Twenty-one.”

 

“Have you ever done any babysitting before?”

 

Okay, he hadn’t been expecting THAT question.

 

“A little.  I have a younger sister that I used to take care of sometimes.  Oh, and the Johnson’s baby down the street after school last year.”  He’d forgotten about that.  Though there hadn’t been much to that.  He’d just watch the baby between when the nanny left at 4pm to pick up her own children from school and when the parents came home at 5:30.  

 

The blonde had smiled again, introduced herself as Cynthia Moore, and had told him she had a job for him.  

 

Of course, it was only for tonight, until she was able to find a replacement, but still, it was $50 that Justin didn’t have before he got there, and that was good enough for now.  He needed to eat.

 

Of course, babysitting jobs in the past had always included some sort of promise of food.  This job obviously held no such promise as he’d checked the fridge earlier and found nothing in there but bottled water, baby bottles and an avocado.  So as he sat down on the sofa after having watched the baby fall asleep he resigned himself to having to wait until the baby’s father got home and paid him before he could eat.  Justin’s own fridge was emptier than the baby’s father’s, but he knew a 24-hour market that was on his way home that he could stop at.

 

It would be pasta again.  He’d been eating so much pasta since he’d been on his own.  It was cheap and plentiful and had become boring as hell.  He missed real food.  He missed his mother’s cooking and his father’s barbecue, and he closed his eyes and started dreaming of the juicy double cheeseburger that he might never have again.  Then Justin heard the sound of metal scraping against metal, and he opened his eyes and turned his head towards the sound.

 

...And then HE walked in....And Justin knew that his world had finally stopped spinning.


	2. Chapter 2

  
Author's notes: yay! two updates do close together.  are you proud?  I've already started on the next chapter, in which there will be sex...i promise  


* * *

  
**Brain**

 

It had taken nearly six months, but he’d finally gotten everything back under control.  He worked, he went out, and he’d finally managed to find a set-up with which he didn’t have to worry about who was looking after Gus.  From when he left for work in the morning until 4pm, his son was being watched by Carol the nanny, and from then until wheneverthefuck he felt like coming home for the night, whether it be from work or from a night out at Babylon or Woody’s Gus was being watched by Jessie the babysitter.  It was a good system, in which Brian was able to live his life and not have to worry about his son.  It was good.  It was working.

 

Then Jessie’d quit—the stupid little brat.

 

Fifty dollars a night for a job that was taken up ninety-percent of the time by sitting on her ass watching his plasma TV wasn’t good enough for her apparently.  At least not enough to try to not fuck it up by being caught screwing her boyfriend on his Italian leather sofa.  Yeah, that’d been fun.  Doubly so as he got a first hand look at more hetro-sex than he’d cared to see in a very long time, as it had taken them a ridiculously long amount of time to realize he was standing there—and the fact that he’d lost his babysitter because the prissy little princess had quit when he started yelling at her, saying that she _didn’t deserve this type of treatment_.  Fuck.

 

_There isn’t enough Beam on the planet to deal with this kind of shit,_ he thought as he threw back another shot.  Now he was down one babysitter, and apparently one white Italian leather sofa, as there was no fucking way he was keeping it after its little jaunt into hetero-land.

 

At least Cynthia had told him that he didn’t have to worry about finding a babysitter for tonight, which was a relief as Ryder had been starting to drop hints that Brian took to mean that he was in a position to make partner in the next year, and he’d been forced to drop everything to cover yet another one of the moron-twins screw-ups before his four-o-clock meeting with Kirshner Textiles this afternoon.  A meeting which he had nailed—though not in the positive, life affirming way he had hoped, as the head of the company had been a woman—and possibly a dyke.

 

He allowed himself to scan the crowd one more time.  Either there really wasn’t a single guy worth a trip to the backroom on the dance-floor tonight, or the shit Anita had given him was really messing up his perception.  Either way, it wasn’t worth it, and with a nod to Mikey and the others, he turned and began walking away, ignoring the persistent whine that followed his retreat.  _“Briii-ann…”_

 

Whatever Anita had him on, it began kicking in on his way back to the loft, and by the time he pulled open the sliding metal door, he could practically feel his body vibrating.  

 

He stepped inside, glanced over at the accursed sofa, and suddenly realized that he must be more tweaked than he thought, because there, sitting on his sofa, was an angel.

  

**Justin**

 

“I wouldn’t sit there if I were you.”  

 

The door slid closed.

 It took Justin a ridiculously long time to realize that the man had spoken.  All he could concentrate on was the man’s lean form encased in form-fitting blue jeans and a tight black tanktop.  His hair was dark and tousled, eyes dark, skin so tanned and golden that Justin wanted to run his hands all over every inch of it.  Followed by his tongue.  _Wait.  What?_  

“Um…what?  Why not?”

 

He saw the man’s eyes glint and watched as he rolled his tongue into his cheek and smirked.  _Oh, God._   

 

The man turned and began to walk towards the kitchen, speaking as he went.  “I caught my babysitter fucking her boyfriend on it last night.  Right about where you’re sitting actually.  I haven’t had a chance to have it cleaned yet.  It might be diseased.”

 

Justin jumped to his feet without thinking, then glanced down at the spot where he’d been sitting for the past few hours.  _Ew…gross._   He looked back towards the man, who now stood in front of the refrigerator drinking from a water bottle.  Suddenly something in Justin’s mind clicked.

 

“Um, you must be Mr. Kinney.  Your assistant hired me for the night.  My name’s…”

 

“That’s nice,”  Kinney interrupted.  “Do you like Special K?”

  

**Brain**

 

He saw the kid’s eyes widen and glance around nervously as he stuttered his response, something about allergies and Tylenol.  _Whatever.  No drugs for you then._

 

Then he pulled his shirt over his head and opened the bottle of water he had been drinking from and, in a fit of heat, poured it over himself.  He watched the kid’s eyes widen and his tongue dart out to lick his lips as he watched the water droplets glide down his skin.  Brain looked the kid up and down, feeling his cock harden in his pants.  Judging by the way the kid was looking at him, the kid was having a similar reaction.  And if that was the case, his originally disappointing night was going to end up being way more fun than he’d expected.

 

In only seconds, Brian had his pants and underwear off and was standing before the blond, arms open, cock heavy with blood, jutting away from his body, towards his goal.

 

“So are you coming or going?  Or coming, and then going?”  he paused.  Usually he stopped his offer right there, but this time something was different.  Maybe it was sthe drugs, maybe it was the pleasant surprise of a little blond angel in his loft, or maybe it was the sight of the boy’s eyes glazed over with lust, but he suddenly felt compelled to continue, to add an offer to the list that he never had before.  “Or coming and staying?”

 

It was then that the blond walked up and kissed him, and the rest of the world ceased to exist.


End file.
